


the next thing we know we're trapped

by haipollai



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Modern Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A young woman opens the door. The first thing he notices is that she has the same nose as Peggy, followed by she’s pretty but... He’s not sure what he wants to follow the ‘but’, but she’s not Peggy herself maybe, but she’s not Steve.</i>
</p>
<p>  <i>“Can I help you?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	the next thing we know we're trapped

A young woman opens the door. The first thing he notices is that she has the same nose as Peggy, followed by she’s pretty but... He’s not sure what he wants to follow the ‘but’, but she’s not Peggy herself maybe, but she’s not Steve.

“Can I help you?”

“Um yes, I’m told Mrs. Carter lives here?” It feels awkward on his tongue, though he practiced it. He has to stop himself from calling her Agent. The file said she hasn’t been that in close to thirty years.

The young woman - there had been names in the file but no photos so he can’t figure out who she is - eyes him suspiciously. “Come in,” she gestures him into the small entranceway. “Who should I tell her is calling?” The wording makes him smile, not that he needs confirmation at this point that this is the right place but the polite phrasing of the question is still nice. Reminds him of warm pubs and the feel of maps.

“Sgt. Barnes.”

“One second,” the woman gives him another suspicious glance but then leaves him to go find Peggy. He busies himself looking at photos, immediately noticing that all of them are from after the war. Slightly off to the side is a sketch of her as the woman in his memories. He doesn’t need to see the scrawled signature half hidden under the frame to know who drew it.

“Bucky?”

He turns and though he just saw her in the photos, seeing her in person is still a mild shock. He half bows, because nothing else seems appropriate. Peggy as a young woman was glamorous, Peggy as an old woman is regal. He’s not even sure why he’s here. Steve was closer to her but it feels like a loose end he needs to address too. “Ma’am.” 

“Don’t you dare make me feel any older. You’ve barely aged.” She gestures and he can still feel the strength in her arms when she hugs him but he can’t shake the fear he’s going to break her. It’s unfamiliar and terrifying. He can’t help but wonder if this is what he would be like if he hadn’t fallen and he’s not sure if he’s better for it or not. “Come, tea? Or coffee? Steve was so thrilled about having real coffee again when he first came around.”

“Tea is fine.” She leads him into a kitchen that he suspects is only clean because of the other woman. Peggy had never struck him as someone comfortable in a kitchen. She manages to start the kettle as he takes a seat at the table. There are crosswords on the table and a half started book. They are signs of a life that continues in order, as it’s supposed to. Bucky doesn’t remember what that is like, knowing for sure what day it is or even knowing if this day really followed the one before or if there are gaps.

“So what brings you Mr. Barnes?”

“You can call me Bucky, _ma’am_.” He says it again just to rile her but she was always too good for petty tricks.

“So you always said.”

“I don’t really know. Steve said he still sees you and I…I guess it seemed like…”

“A loose end?” He smiles sheepishly but she doesn’t seem offended. “Half of my job was keeping an eye on you all-“

“You mean on Steve.”

She gives him a look and it’s her and he thinks of late nights in the War Room, all of them trying to figure out their next attack and someone, usually Jacques or Hogan saying something ridiculous and her looking at them like that, at all of them as they laugh. “On you all,” she repeats. “I still know how you all think. And if I recall, you had just as much of an eye on him.”

“That obvious?”

She pats his cheek as the kettle goes off and he scrunches up his face at the matronly gesture. “When I thought about it after…” She hides the shortened sentence under preparing their drinks but he sees what it is.

“After I fell,” he finishes for her because he hates this strange sign everyone thinks he’s carrying making them tiptoe around it. “You’re free to talk about it; docs say I repressed the memory. Probably won’t ever get it back unless I get dumped into a bucket of ice water.” He wraps his real hand around the mug, enjoying the warmth. The metal one fidgets with the handle. His eyes are fixed on it, watching it as if it isn’t attached to him. As the Winter Soldier he was used to it, liked it, but as Bucky again it feels out of place.

“Does that line work on Steve?”

“Sometimes.” Because Steve wants to believe that he has Bucky back and Bucky always wonders if he lost more then his arm when he fell.

She nods, obviously not surprised. “He told me your path was a bit different then his.”

In that moment, it clicks why he’s here because for all the doctors know, they don’t know and Steve is too close. But Peggy understands, she knows the war and she knows them. Her eyes watch him, waiting patiently, she has obviously had practice and he feels a stab of guilt for making her wait longer. So he tells her, at first hesitantly, waiting for judgment or disbelief but she saw a kid become a soldier and men defeat a monster. When nothing comes the words speed up. He tells her about death and orders and Russian coming as easily as English.

She doesn’t say anything until the end. “Steve had it easiest, didn’t he?”

He barks a laugh because it’s true, Steve got to sleep through 70 years and she had to fight and struggle and live every second of it. He gets up himself this time to pour more tea for them. “Yea, figures.” He leans against the counter as he waits for the water to finish boiling. “Thank you.”

“It is the least I can do.”

“No, you didn’t have to do anything.” He doesn’t tell her he might not have done the same, but she likely knows. “You know, at first, I saw you as competition. You were taking Steve and I had to let it happen.” It’s in the past now, and it’s safe to admit.

“He loves you, I could never take that.”

“He loves you too.” He settles back down and they fall quiet. Her hand covers his, soft and worn. He danced with her once, when they were back in England between missions. Steve had looked so hurt he had never asked again. Back then he had felt the trigger calluses but they’ve faded now. They hear the door open again and she pulls back her hand. “She’s beautiful, your granddaughter?”

“Yes, and I know you so don’t you dare.”

“I would never harm a hair on her head. And if she’s anything like her grandmother, I wouldn’t be able to.”

She shakes her head but she’s smiling and his smile grows in response. “It’s not the hair on her head I’m worried about.”

Instead of the young woman, Steve steps into the kitchen and they both look at him with expressions of surprise until he clears his throat uncomfortably. Bucky sighs knowing Steve being here can only mean he’s about to be dragged back to the Mansion and kisses her cheek. “I guess this is my ride.”

“Agent Coulson was worried. You didn’t tell anyone…,” Steve trails off and Bucky knows only his training keeps him from wringing his hands. “I’m sorry Peggy.”

“How come she gets an apology?” He grumbles as he stands, going to clean out his mug.

“We should have sent you to the Russians years ago, you’ve learned manners.”

Steve makes a strangled noise but Bucky flashes her a grin. It’s good to talk about it, everyone else tiptoeing around it has made him terrified to look at it himself. Peggy gives him a small smile back from over her mug and he finally looks at Steve. There’s an odd look on his face and for once Bucky can’t read him. “Time to go back?”

Steve jumps slightly as if startled. “Yes.” He apologizes to Peggy again and finally leads them out. Bucky’s hand slips into his as they walk out, it’s warm and alive and solid where it presses against his. He knows where the calluses are and that the cracking across his knuckles means he was in the gym when asked to go get Bucky. “Why did you sneak away? You could have just said, no one would have stopped you.”

“I needed to do something on my own.”

“Did it help?”

He thinks of warm hands and familiar faces and presses closer to Steve. It chases away lingering memories of cold and languages that feel right and wrong at the same time. “It helped.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "The Story that Never Starts" Abney Park


End file.
